Tactical Idiocy Action 2: Sons of Liberty
by DarkGidora
Summary: A new hero arrives!
1. And so it begins

Disclaimer: I don't own MGS. But I'll be damned if I let that stop me! Laziness, however, manage to do so…

* * *

The cargo ship _Discovery _drifted lazily through the waters of the Hudson River; it having a special cargo… we've done this before, right?

Anyways, several hundred feet above the tanker, a lone man walked along the span of the George Washington Bridge, casually smoking a cigarette; his face and body covered by a black poncho. The scowling warrior paused to casually flick his smoke over the side of the bridge, probably scalding some poor sea turtle or something. However, the man had more important things in mind. He had a grim task, one all the more grim due to the sordid history between him and bridges.

Bursting into a sprint, the soldier tossed off his cloak, disappearing in an electric haze. The now invisible man dove off the side of the bridge, after fluidly tying a bungee cord to the rails. He mentally ticked off the equipment he brought along for the mission…

_Digital camera…for photos of our target…_

_Antipersonnel vibration sensor… for tight places where I can't use the radar…_

_Field binoculars…for distance recon…_

_Cigarettes with lighter… don't leave home without them…_

_Converted Beretta 92F tranquilizer gun with laser sight and suppressor…can't exactly get into a shooting war with a whole marine detachment with it, but good enough…_

_Top of the line stealth camouflage…Because Otacon said a bungee jumping cardboard box would be too conspicuous… the fool…_

_Sneaking suit…man, this is tight…_

_200 foot bungee cord…wait… was that 200 feet stretched out or 200 feet normal? Oh shit…_

**THUD!**

As our hero lay on the deck of the tanker, his stealth camouflage shorting out and his preternatural ability to shake off severe head trauma kicking in, he was observed from a distant helicopter by a certain geriatric gunslinger…

"Our boy is right on schedule. He'll know soon enough…" Ocelot said, marveling at how much this scenario reminded him of when Mantis bet Liquid he wouldn't survive a headfirst drop off of the Comm Tower roof… and Liquid proved him wrong.

Our hero rose to his feet, accompanied by a thunderclap and the game's logo. Running to a secluded spot on deck, Solid Snake contacted his friend and mission planner, Hal Emmerich.

"Kept you waiting, eh? I'm at the sneak point…"

"Everything going okay?"

"Nope, my invisibility suit's busted, and I think a cardboard box might've shielded me a little better from the impact. Especially considering how my plan included those little Styrofoam peanuts…"

"So…" Otacon said, once again wondering about his pal's strange fascination with all things corrugated. "…Working in the private sectors not so bad, right? Privacy guaranteed…"

"Yep, and no crazy doctor promising to allow strip searches and never delivering…" Snake said, before realizing another problem he had with Naomi "Oh, and no heart attack viruses. Though I do admit, she, along with the quote lady and the rambling military analyst, was quite a bit more attractive than you. The crazy sniper lady was hot too… you had a thing for her right? Whatever happened to her?"

"You shot her!"

"Oh yeah… my bad…"

"Hey, I have an idea. While you're on the deck of a tanker full of trained marines guarding a classified government secret, why don't we rehash the past few years, for our reader's sake?"

"Oh yeah, after I blew up the unstoppable killing machine you invented, Ocelot sold all the data on the black market, and somehow now everybody has their own unstoppable killing machine based on it. So in effect, it's all your fault."

"What?!"

"Well, you invented the first one; so I kinda think Ocelot's just the middle man…"

"Anyways, this new model developed by the Marines is designed to stop all the evil Metal Gears. And as you know, our group, PHILANTHROPY, is dedicated to stopping evil Metal Gears."

"So we must immediately sabotage the Marine Corps' plans before they put us out of a job?"

"Exactly."

"Anyways, the guys on deck don't appear armed. Seems a bit suspicious."

"Well obviously. People at the shoreline would be able to see armed Marines running on deck. Though they might not notice a giant robot if it tore the boat in two and started swimming away…"

"Well, I do admit that having lackluster security is good for me, but seriously, it has a Metal Gear onboard. You'd think that the government could post a few more guards…"

"Snake, trust me… there's no reason to worry. Just get past the unarmed, inattentive marines and find the Cargo Holds."

Of course, at that moment, the marines on deck proved how inattentive they were by ignoring a Russian military helicopter buzzing around them, and just wandering around while a group balaclava-wearing soldiers ran around killing them.

"I told you, security should've been tighter..."

"You think they're there to hijack Metal Gear?"

"Well, let's see. A group of them storm the ship, methodically slaughtering the guards. They are wearing the latest in 'faceless guard' fashion and are carrying fully automatic weapons. I'd say so…" Our hero said, noticing what appeared to be a senior officer stepping into his view. "Judging by their choice in Russian assault rifles, Russian camouflage, Russian helicopters, and Russian haircuts, I have this lingering suspicion that they might be from Russia…"

Quickly, Snake took picture of the probable leader of the probably-Russian military brigade and went back to hiding.

"Snake, all we need is photographic proof of Metal Gear, so not pyrotechnics, okay?"

"But… what about one tiny…"

"No. This isn't like Shadow Moses… except for the legion of identically-clad faceless guards showing up to hijack a Metal Gear, me using the exact same CODEC frequency as I did back then, me using Mei Ling's old frequency to save your data, me giving you quotes when you save your data, and the first boss fight probably will be a handgun wielding Russian."

"Understood. Snake out."

And so, our hero embarked out on yet another fantastic adventure, one which would eventually encompass fanboy rage, immense confusion, and confirmation that Hideo Kojima is indeed completely freaking insane.


	2. Hudson River Handguns

Disclaimer: I don't own Metal Gear, as I am not Hideo Kojima. Or… am I? No, I am not.

* * *

As we last left Snake, he had ventured into the tanker _Discovery_, carrying the latest Metal Gear onboard. As he finished dispatching the guards in the ship's lounge with his kung fu, he glanced around. _Pretty sweet place these Marines have. All those breakable bottles, and this ice. Man, it's suck if my adventures would take me from this really cool, highly detailed and interactive tanker to someplace lame, like a series of hexagonal rooms connected by bland orange bridges._

And so he continued throughout the ship, up one deck, dodging yet another surveillance camera, and up again, to the crew quarters. After taking out Faceless Guards 88 and 89, and dodging a laser tripwire/plastic explosive trap, Snake reached the bridge. Ignoring the dead marines, Snake set to work examining the navigation computer. Confirming the tanker's course, Snake called Otacon.

* * *

"Otacon… looks like the ship's heading for some random stretch of ocean far away from everything…"

"It must be going for solo testing, so it's fully armed and combat capable…"

"Please tell me they've still designed it so that there's some sort of inane fetch quest involved in activating it, okay? Because then the terrorists would have to do the whole 'room temperature, cold, and hot' thing, and it'll take them a while…"

"Nope, they just have to jump in the cockpit and start kicking ass."

"DAMN!" Noticing a figure outside the room, Snake ended his call…

* * *

Outside on the deck, the rather androgynous soldier was conversing over the radio in an thick Russian accent.

"Okay, ve haff isolated ze holds, taken command of communications, and set up C4 all over ze place."

On the other end of the line, yet another distinctly Russian voice rang out "Ze tanker iz ourz now. Shalashaska haz landed…"

"You know, I don't think ve can trust him…"

"Why? He is my old friend. I'm sure he wouldn't betray us like he did to Volgin, or the Director of Central Intelligence, or Liquid Znake, or ze United Ztates government, or…"

"And yet ve can still trust him?"

"Uh… Don't question me. Your part in this iz over."

"Papa! I vant to stay and help you hijack the ultimate weapon!"

"Look, I can zee the moon. It'z az pale az death. I haff a bad feeling about zis. You go home, and I'll stand right next to Backstabby Eastvoodovich…"

"I told you ve can't trust him…"

"It's just a nickname. Anyvayz, you are carrying my grandchild. Get out of here at vonce!" With that, the other speaker hung up.

"Damnit…" The androgynous Russian said.

* * *

"Freeze!" Our hero said, pointing his tranquilizer gun at his new opponent. "Okay… toss your gun overboard and put your hands up…" noticing his enemy's rather long armpit hair, he hastily added "…put 'em down! Put 'em down!"

"Zo… you Americans zhoot unarmed vomen az well?" the Russian soldier replied, removing her cap.

"…You're a woman?"

"Fuck you…"

"Who the hell are you people anyways? And why do you assault an indoor environment wearing orange an brown camouflage? And why do you have more hair under your arms than on your head? And how can I get this image out of my mind?"

"Ve are nomads… vanderers…"

"…Okay, just toss your knife overboard and put on a long sleeve shirt…" suddenly, the tanker jerked while the opponent held the knife over her head…

"Hmm… it ztopped raining… it'z not too zhabby, is it? New York, I mean." Suddenly, a bullet shot out from the end of the knife... and missed Snake by a mile.

"Scout knife with a trick… you're Spetsnaz? Man, either nepotism was involved or they really lowered their standards."

"No one's ever dodged that shot before…"

"Have you ever **fired** that shot before?"

"…no…" The Russian replied before pulling out a second handgun. The two began trading shots.

The Russian, (whose lifebar read "OLGA") began to monologue. "I've been on ze unit zince I waz born. I grew up on ze battlefield!"

"Yeah, well I've been with my unit since… well, since Otacon got bored and decided to start an anti-Metal Gear group! And I've scientifically confirmed that love can bloom on the battlefield. Who has the better résumé now, huh?"

Angrily, Olga shot out the ropes holding onto a tarp, hoping to distract Snake. Unfortunately, it came loose and flew into her face, leading her to accidentally stumble into a pile of crates. Frustrated, she ranted again… "Conflict and victory vere my parents! The unit iz my life, my family."

"Yeah, well the greatest soldier that ever lived was my parent, and I killed him. And my evil twin! So yeah, I don't have a family, but I'm still more badass than you!"

"Whoever you are, you're not stoppink uz!" Olga yelled, cartwheeling to the side and shooting a light fixture, hoping to blind Snake. But she had to look where she was aiming, so she left Snake to shoot out the light at his bulb at his leisure while she blindly ran into the wall.

"I haff no one… nothing except ze unit!"

"With your personality and skillset, I am not surprised…"

And so, the battle continued, until Snake finally subdued Olga. As she lay unconscious, Snake was unhappy to find that the reason she shot very sporadically wasn't because she was bad at her job; but because she was out of ammo. Suddenly, he glanced up, at a camera-bearing UAV. It clicked off a few snapshots before flying off…

* * *

"Otacon. They've got control of the ship. They're a wacky bunch. They suck just as bad as the Genome Soldiers, and their leadership arent exactly top notch either. Granted, Ocelot was also a Russian handgun wielder, but at least he had a cowboy gimmick. This lady was just bland."

"Snake, that old guy you photographed? He's Ocelot's old pal Sergei Gurlukovich."

"So, after the Shadow Moses thing failed, he still felt the need to get his hands on a mech? Jackass. By the way, I just saw Army-model Cypher…"

"So, the Army is spying on an ex-Fox-Hound member who's battling Russians over a Metal Gear built by the Marines to act independently of the Navy?"

"Let me guess… the plot just got a lot less simple?"

"Uh, Snake… remember when you thought this was a trap, and I said it wasn't, because I made sure the existence of Metal Gear was legit?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, actually… I didn't get this info on my own… It was kinda given to me by anonymous tip."

"…Anything else you haven't told me? Heart attack virus... you're being blackmailed… you're actually Liquid, who cheated death yet again, killed Otacon, and yet again assumed the identity of my best friend? Anything?"

"Hey. The sender of the tip used the same initials as my stepsister, E.E., whom I knew for only two years and haven't seen in a decade. I think that's plenty trustworthy. I admit, I might've messed up…"

"MIGHT'VE? You sent me aboard a tanker full of armed Marines, being hijacked by ex-Spetsnaz mercs, to take pictures of a giant killer robot! Because it's impossible for anyone to have the same initials as your sister! Christ, and I thought inventing the ultimate nuclear threat by accident was the craziest thing you did."

"Anyways, you have a real handgun now, so get to the cargo holds, where the heavily armed Russians are preparing to steal an unstoppable killing machine from equally heavily armed Marines.."

Sighing, our hero signed off, to continue his descent into idiocy…

* * *

Author's Note: Probably should've put this in the first chapter, but it's great to be back. Anyways, glad to see you guys still care about TIA, and I will endeavor to try to update more often. But as a side note, when I first started the original, I had weekly updates for quite some time before the delays started to kick in. (PROJECTED DATE OF COMPLETION: 2018)


	3. Dog Tags of War

Disclaimer: Yet again, Metal Gear is not my IP.

* * *

Solid Snake silently left the side of the Navigation Deck where he fought Olga, crossing over to the middle. Spying a rather large ladder leading up the mast, Snake felt an uncontrollable pass over him._ Must… waste… vital… time… climbing… nondescript… mast…_

And so, upon reaching the crows nest at the top of the mast, Snake found that the either the Marines or the Gurlukovich soldiers had left a nice pair of thermal goggles at the top, for any brave adventurer wanting to squander precious world-saving time in order to explore every inch of a hijacked cargo ship/secret USMC giant fucking robot storage barge.

Returning to the bottom of the ladder, Snake continued to venture forth. Espying a guard exiting the Bridge, Snake crept behind him, unholstered his M9 and yelled "FREEZE!".

"Don't kill me!" The guard whined, wincing at the sight of the gun. "Listen, have a ration! No, bandages, yeah, unstoppable badasses love bandages, right? Aw man… hell, take my dog tags!"

"Dog tags?" Our hero quizzically replied, cocking an eyebrow. Despite his bewilderment, he made sure to pick up the tags off the tanker floor.

"Yeah… I hear that if you get enough of them, you can exchange them for fabulous prizes."

"Prizes hm… I like the sound of that. What can I get?"

"Uh… stealth camo…"

"Nice… anything else?"

"Uh… oh yeah, wigs!"

"Wigs? As in awesome aircraft? Or replacement hair?"

"Yeah, the second one, in all different colors, like brown and orange and blue?"

"Blue? Do I look like a Martian hooker? No wigs…" Snake said, yet again regretting he didn't have any ammo for his USP.

"Oh… you're into bandannas, right? I hear you can also get an impractically long bandanna."

"…How impractical?"

"Floor length…"

"Sweet! Thanks dude." Snake said, holstering his gun.

"Great, I'll just leave and head for my well-armed terrorist comrades then, okay?"

**-Punch-punch-kick!-**

"Sorry, but I'm not that stupid… Guess I gotta waste more time getting those fabulous prizes… Wait… BOX!" Our hero shouted, spying a poor neglected cardboard box, left to wither in the maelstrom. "Don't worry… it'll be alright. I promise… I'll take good care of you."

Before I could write some more unnecessary hurt/comfort SnakexBox fanfiction, Snake decided to take more time off from "saving the world" to "unnecessarily fuck with guards".

Upon entering the bridge, Snake immediately procured some USP ammo. Climbing down the staircase from the bridge, Snake snuck into a vacant storeroom. Spotting another box hidden behind the rack of delicious produce and flour, Snake sat on the floor with glee to play with his cardboard friends. Both boxes were apparently storing produce, as they had "The Orange" written on them. Or the orange boxes might've been storing cake and sandviches. Suddenly, the door opened, a guard walked in, and Snake could only watch in silent apprehension as… he fell asleep standing up.

I have to admit, for as much as I ridicule them, I envy their ability to remain fully upright while napping on the job. However, this didn't save the man from Snake.

"FREEZE!"

"Abwuh? You fucking interrupted my nap!"

"Hand's up!"

Despite complying, the guard couldn't just keep his mouth shut. "Can you shoot me, dog?"

"Huh?"

"You don't have the guts."

"Look, the whole 'you're not going to shoot me' ploy might be a good idea to try on a rookie if you're a nigh immortal badass, but I would seriously recommend a different bargaining approach. Hand over those dog tags!"

"No. As I said before you aren't going t…"

**BLAM!**

"Holy fuck! My beautiful knee!"

"Dog tags. Now."

"Okay, just please, don't shoot me again!"

**-punch-punch-kick!-**

* * *

And so, our hero continued his rampage, bludgeoning GRU members and stealing their ID, all in the name of fabulous prizes. Eventually after passing through the lounge, Snake descended a staircase, into the ship's engine room. Suddenly, he spotted a familiar silhouette at the back of the wall…

"RAVEN?!!" Our hero said, unholstering his USP. _Fucking can't be. I killed him. Then again I thought I killed Fox, Big Boss, Liquid, et al and they came back as well. And I didn't see his body. Crap… maybe his birds took him away and nursed him back to health. Aw fuck. And I don't even have those remote missiles. Fuck!_Growling, Snake rushed around the corridor, squarely aiming at… a Vulcan Raven action figure. Because as we all know, Marines on secret missions love the McFarlane Toys' line of Traitorous Evil Shaman dolls.

Turning from the toy, Snake proceeded through the engine room, glad that the ship apparently was designed with secret agenting in mind. The bottomless pits, abundant railings, dark corners and crevices allowed him to take out the small army of faceless guards aimlessly walking back and forth around the engine.

Reaching the other end of the engine room, he passed into another locker room. Yet again, the terrorists showed off their brilliance by placing yet another set of laser triggered semtex explosives in the middle of a hallway. Using the goggles, Snake easily took spotted the C4 control boxes, and thanks to the fact that he had already eliminated all of the guards, nobody was there to hear him shoot them out.

Continuing through the Deck 2 hallways, Snake snuck by more inattentive guards, taking care to hold them up and relieve them of their dog tags whenever he could. Eventually, as he neared the holds, he ducked behind a crate. GRU soldiers emerged from the hatch, closing it behind them. One of them spoke on a radio.

"Colonel, we have sealed the stern hatch."

The same gruff Russian voice that conversed with Olga responded "Alright… I'm on my vay to the holds."

"Sir, the Marine commander has started his speech already… can you say long winded as fuck?"

"Da, zhat vill give us plenty of time to finish preparations…"

"All communications to the hold have been cut off. No one is aware of our presence." The Russian said. Snake pondered how much US recruiting standards must've dropped if faceless guards managed to avoid detection.

"Let no one into ze holds until ve're out…"

"Yes sir. We will secure your exit, with our lives if necessary." Snake shook his head. _Dude, you're a balaclava wearing terrorist in a videogame. Your life expectancy is about fifty seconds after I start shooting._

"Zere is one more thing… My daughter… keep her safe."

"Uh sir, no offense, but why the Hell did you let your pregnant daughter in on a mission like this? Is it 'take your daughter to a warzone' day? But don't worry, nothing will happen to her." Turning, he somehow realized someone was hiding in the corridor. "Who goes there!"

**BLAM!**

And so, the battle was on. Snake versus faceless guards. As usual, the guards decided to rush blindly into Snake's line of fire in groups of three. One of the soldiers turned to his comrades and said "Shouldn't we, y'know, try to flank him? Or at least not rush straight into his field of view?"

"No. That's how a coward fights. Do you want to be a coward?"

"No, but I…"

"But nothing, our GRU forbearers fought this way for decades! I mean, they even fought against a brown-mulleted, gravelly-voiced, bandana-wearing spy too!"

"Did they ever beat their guy?"

"I'm not so clear on the outcome. But hey, if they failed I'm sure Mother Russia would take a deep, introspective look at their training and fix the underlying problems. It's not like a military organization would spend precious resources training complete idiots how to fight."

"Yeah, I guess you're…"

**BLAM!**

"Hey! He was saying some…"

**BLAM!**

After a few more waves of cannon fodder, Snake once again stood victorious over the forces of evil. Stepping past the corpses, he opened up the hatch they had closed, and descended into the cargo holds. However, a lone guard, unnoticed by Snake, snuck up and… closed the door. Yep, he avenged his fallen comrades by shutting the door behind Snake. Real man of action, that one.

Anyways, the guard himself was being snuck up upon. Hearing a distinctive clinking sound, the guard whipped around. "Who goes there?" he yelled, apparently not recalling how well the other guards fared after that dialogue. However, he calmed down upon seeing the figure making the noise. "Ah, Shalashashka. Why are you here? We thought you, the completely trustworthy Revolver Ocelot, would be with your best friend in the whole wide world, the Colonel."

**BANG!**

After spinning his revolver for a second, the Russian cowboy walked past the recently departed guard towards his true objective… the door. Making sure it was tightly closed, Ocelot turned to go on his merry way. Barely acknowledging the corpse, he said "Granted, I could've simply had you securely close the door, but I'm the supervillain here and you're the lackey, alright? I do important things, like closing doors, and you… well, get shot in the head. Oh, and by the way… the Colonel will be joining you very soon (DarkGidora's update schedule permitting), comrade."

Amazingly, the guard was not dead, yet. "-kaff- Colonel? What Colonel? Colonel Sanders? 'cause I'm looking at him right now."

**BANG!**

"Nobody calls me that! Nobody!"

"Really –kaff-? I'm not afraid of you. Guess you could say… I'm not chicken… haha!"

**BANG!**

"Why won't you die?"

"I dunno –kaff-. I just want to make cryptic speeches?"

"Let me guess. You had a sucky childhood, are angry at the world, joined terrorist army due to said anger, and are refusing to croak until dramatic music plays and you rehash your entire past?

"How'd you guess?"

"I am the only person in this game that has any fucking clue as to what's going on. So spill it, I just want this to be over so I can get back to backstabbing."

And so, as Ocelot listened to a rather heart-wrenching tale involving a family of kiwi birds, a demented Certified Public Accountant, and a misplaced shipment of goliath bird eating tarantulas, Snake continued on his journey. For soon, there would be an ending, but also a new beginning. And another returning foe; this time even more ridiculous. And the most incompetent USMC force ever doing stupid things inside a cargo hold.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

See? I told you the delays would be starting up. Ah well. Anyways, thanks to Crow T Robot for some ideas, I'll definitely use some later on. As for anyone else, feel free to PM me with ideas if you have any.

As for any future episodes of TIA; expect TIA3 sometime after I get done with this. I bought the Essential Compilation over the summer, and that's actually what spurred me to (finally) get started with TIA2. At the moment, TIA4 looks like something of a no-go, don't have a PS3, and I'd want to play the game before actually writing about it (Though the recent teaser on Konami's website might bode well for future TIA).


	4. Armed and Dangerous

Disclaimer: Metal Gear is not my work.

* * *

Snake glared down into the _Discovery_'s cargo hold. "Otacon, the men down there are definitely Marines."

"…Are you surprised? You're on a Marine Tanker, looking for a Marine Metal Gear, trying to stop Russians from stealing said Metal Gear from the Marines. What did you expect, a legion of swimsuit models?"

"That would've been nice…"

"Yeah… anyways, can you see Metal Gear?"

"Nope. Look's like it's all the way back at the bow. The Marine commander's giving a speech. Must be why they're all down here."

"So the best plan the Marines had was to herd all their rank-and-file, well-equipped grunts to the cargo hold to listen to an old man blabber on about a top secret project, leaving unarmed crewmen to guard the rest of the ship?"

"Guess it's not just the bad guys who hire inept security planners. Anyways, what's the plan?"

"Easy, take pictures of the Metal Gear prototype, and then upload them to me; because a handful of photos of a giant hellish war machine definitely can't be explained away as fake. By the way, somebody's listening in on our conversation, so you can't send the pictures to me via CODEC."

"So… what am I supposed to do?"

"Um, the Marines seem to have left a computer with internet access and compatibility with digital cameras in the very same room as their Metal Gear."

"It's like they want their plans to prevent nuclear proliferation foiled."

"By the way, I've got a copy of Commander Dolph's speech."

"And?"

"Convuluted as Hell."

* * *

Snake probably should've been glad that Dolph simply couldn't shut up. It meant he had plenty of time to get his pictures and then leave. However, on the other hand, it meant that he had to listen to the semi-sane ramblings of a man who probably should've retired years ago. "Men, I know what you're thinking. 'Why did our commander decide to have us abandon our posts and line up in the cargo holds like cattle?'. And the answer is simple. Giant. Fucking. Killbot."

At once, the cargo holds burst into shouts of "Oo-Rah!", "Semper Fi!", and the decidedly less USMC-ish "Yay!".

"Gentlemen, today we live in a world where every nation that wants one can have a nuclear equipped, walking deathmobile. It is my sincerest hope that my daughter, and her children will never know the horrors of nuclear… HOLY SHIT BANDANNA WEARING JACKASS SNEAKING UP BEHIND YOU!"

As an entire contingent of Marines whipped around in shock, prepared to fight, a certain bandanna wearing clone, hiding behind a table, wondered how he had been spotted. He mulled over his options.

_Can't exactly run. Too many to fight. Damn, is this it? Have I finally met my match in a blowhard marine commander?_ His musings ended abruptly, as said commander laughed and said "Just kidding. Seriously guys, you should've seen the looks on your faces."

Snake, wondering what kind of idiot would interrupt a big dramatic speech to psyche out his own men, had an epiphany. _Dolph is an imbecile_.

The Marines thought so too.

"Anyways, common sense dictates that the only way to fight Metal Gear is with another Metal Gear. Or a dude in a bandanna and a disturbingly tight spy outfit. But they tend to be fucking jackasses, so we'll go with the giant robot."

Snake clenched his teeth.

"Seriously, bandanna dudes suck. 'Rawr, I smoke a lot and have a cardboard fetish, now watch as I whine about how much conspiracies suck'. 'On the battlefield, something angsty occurs, blah, blah, let me repeat everyone else's words ver batim'. Christ, no wonder none of the CODEC ladies want to sleep with them."

* * *

"Cardboard fetish? On the battlefield something angsty occurs? Repeat everyone else's words? Otacon, can I just go home and let the Russians ruin Dolph's day?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No!"

* * *

"Where was I? Oh yes, Giant Fucking Killbot. Anyways, as we all know, the number one threat to America now is…" Dolph trailed off.

"BEARS!" his men shouted in unison.

"Erm… No. The number one threat to America is Metal Gear, the Nuclear-Equipped Walking Battletank, or NEWB for short. Now, what is our job?"

"Own some NEWBS!"

"Now you're getting it. And how are we going to do that?"

"Giant fucking killbot!"

"Exactly! All right, as the old saying goes 'fight fire with fire'. Now, my attempts to prove said theory right have led to the destruction of my home, my pets, and a nationally protected wildlife sanctuary, however, I still think the underlying concept is sound… Anyways, let's all do a little stretching alright? LEFT!"

Snake, who had by this time managed to sneak into the second hold, and was sneaking along the left hand side of the room, dived for cover as several dozen marines shifted their gaze to the left. Unfortunately, the only cover he could find was a bizarrely placed modern art sculpture; leading our hero to adopt a pose that should not be attempted by any creature with an internal skeletal system in order to hide behind it.

"FORWARD!"

Our hero relaxed, and began to sneak forward again, when five seconds later…

"RIGHT! NO WAIT, I MEANT MY RIGHT, THAT'S YOUR LEFT GUYS!"

Snake once again was forced to contort his body in a manner reminiscent of certain varieties of mollusks.

"ALRIGHT, NOW BACKFLIP!"

The effect of an entire marine contingent clumsily leaping into each other like a, drunken, heavily armed Circe du Soleil show performed in an earthquake rocked the _Discovery_. Snake, the Russians, and every Marine on board wondered how the Hell Scott Dolph managed to become a Marine Commander. Or chew his own food, for that matter.

"LEFT AGAIN! I REALLY LIKE THAT DIRECTION!"

By this time, the Marines in Hold 2 had realized that a big metal wall separated themselves from their superior officer. They also realized that the aforementioned superior officer was clinically insane. They therefore elected to disregard all future ramblings and simply started looking at each other and talking about how no amount of free money for college was worth the shit they had to put up with, man. Snake used this opportunity to sneak forward, into hold 3.

* * *

"Otacon, I'm in the hold where Metal Gear is supposed to be… by the way, can I shoot Dolph? I promise I'll only aim for his kneecaps…"

"No. Look, you have to get pictures of Metal Gear…"

"Otacon, I think that may pose a problem… I can't see Metal Gear!"

"What do you mean? It should be right in the hold 3, behind Dolph?"

"Wait, do you mean behind Dolph, or behind the MechaGodzilla that is behind Dolph…"

"MechaGodzilla? Snake, what are you talking about?"

"Dude, it has a tail and glowy eyes, those Pentagon motherfuckers… insulting me and trying to put us out of a job was one thing, but trying to take out Godzilla with a robot duplicate… _now it's personal!_ Don't they know that history shows, again and again, that nature points out the folly of man?"

"Snake, that isn't MechaGodzilla… that's Metal Gear!"

"But… the tail… glow eyes… seriously this thing has to be…"

"Snake, honestly, I don't give a damn anymore. Just take a few shots of the thing and leave. God, I need a drink and some aspirin."

* * *

"Anyways men, our Metal Gear RAY totally owns the Army's Metal Gear REX. I mean, it swims! How awesome is that? And once our Ray destroys every rogue states' Rexes, nuclear proliferation is over, because surely the bad guys would never think to build an even bigger Metal Gear. Or just launch the nuke before our Ray can swim to their shores. Or not put their Metal Gears right by the beach. Or just use an ICBM or something else to launch. By the way, rumors that our Ray can be taken out by the dilapidated husk of a Rex that was critically damaged and left to rust for about a decade are, as far as we know, unsubstantiated."

Snake snuck around as the commander continued his speech, getting several pictures of the metal behemoth.

"It's true that certain people are against our program. For instance, the Navy claims that RAY will derail their own Metal Gear project and put senior officers, in particular the ones in command of aircraft carriers and submarines out of a job. I say 'Good riddance, you whiny little bastards'!"

"Oo-rah!"

"And we've also had reports that an anti-Metal Gear group may try to disrupt our actions here, on this very night. I say 'Fuck you, you nerd and bandana-wearing jackass'!"

"Semper Fi!"

"And, a… major player is also against our plan. I say 'I banged your mom, ancient convoluted evil conspiracy thingamajig. And then your dad, too'!"

"…um… yay?"

Creeped out every bit as much as the Marines were, Snake snuck around to the photo lab at the back of the hold, deftly avoid being seen by Marines who were literally beginning to zone out from the combination of insanity and boredom.

* * *

"Alright Snake, got any… CODEC moments for me?"

"Otacon, if I could slap you through this computer screen, I would…"

"Alright… these pictures… suck… seriously, did you even use the flash? I can't make out anything. I can't tell if this is Metal Gear or your foot"

"Use the flash? Around the fifty or so ticked off Marines in this hold? Are you insane?"

"C'mon Snake, we need top of the line photographs if we're going to expose the Marine Corps' plan. Get back out their, and get some stylish, well lit photographs."

"No, that's it. The missions over. I haven't covered wars ya know, _I've actually been through them_. If you wanted better pictures, you should've hired a photographer, not a black ops badass."

"Fine, whiny jerk. Dolph's speech is just about over anyways. Just get back here in one piece and we'll see what we can do…"

* * *

"The world is heading for a future without the fear of nuclear annihilation. And we will, the Marine Corps, will lead it there, with Metal Gear RAY!"

The assembled Marines began clapping wildly, happy that they could finally stop listening to the windbag and go back to guarding the giant robot from any possible harm. They had survived the worst of Dolph's speech, and their mission would be smooth sailing from now on. But then… the sound of spurs began emanating from far behind Metal Gear.

"Excellent speech, my friend. And in case you missed the subtly, I'll spell it out 'You fucking suck worse at motivational speaking than that goddamn moron Liquid did'." A certain mustache-bearing, duster-wearing, constantly-swearing Russian cowboy said. "Gift of the silver tongue, heh. They say it's the mark of the true leader, and of a liar. Good to see you're neither."

"Burned!" the assembled Marines yelled out.

"Whose side are you guys on, anyways?" Dolph asked his men indignantly. Remembering that, though he might have been a long winded dolt, he was still their commander, the Marines formed up around Dolph and raised their rifles at Ocelot. Satisfied, Dolph addressed Ocelot. "And, who the fuck are you?"

"I am Shalashaska. Also known as…"

"Colonel Harlan Sanders?"

"Seriously? Go fuck yourself. As I was saying, they call me… Revolver…"

"Ocelot…" Snake finished, growling out his nemesis's name. Strangely, not one Marine seemed to notice.

"And what are you planning on doing when you steal Ray?"

"Steal?" Ocelot said in mock innocence. "I'm having it returned."

"But… we built it… I mean, frankly you can't return it to anyone, because we're the only ones who had it… I mean, if you stole it from us, you could later return it to us, which, don't get me wrong, would be a nice gesture. But why go through all the trouble stealing it if you're planning on returning it to us?"

At that moment, Colonel Sergei Gurlukovich grabbed Dolph from behind, holding a gun against the Marine Commander's head.

"Seriously guys? Nobody noticed the fat old Russian sneaking up behind me?" Dolph complained as Gurlukovich dragged him a few steps backwards. The Marines trained their rifles on the GRU leader.

Ocelot, annoyed that Sergei stole the spotlight from him, held up a detonator and yelled out "There is enough plastic explosives on board this ship to blow it out of the water. Look, just lower your guns… nobody has to die needlessly. I'm good ol' reliable Ocelot, remember?".

At that moment, Russian Soldiers began repelling from the ceiling, a few began messing around with RAY, whilst others covered the Marines. Meanwhile, the USMC troops in the other holds, figuring this was another convoluted training exercise by Dolph, carried on their conversations.

"What do you intend to do with RAY? Sell it on the streets?" Dolph growled at Gurlukovich.

"I was born in Snezhinsk, formerly known as Chelyabinsk-70, the nuclear research outpost."

"And I'm supposed to care about this because?"

"After the Cold War, my home was bought out by the Americans…"

As if on cue, the Marines in Hold 3, who were annoyed by the whole scenario, began repeatedly chanting "USA! USA!" to piss the Russian off.

"Fuck all of you! Land, friends, dignity… all sold to the highest bidder! The United States of America! Even the technology that gave birth to these weapons is Russian developed by us!"

"Aw… poor little Sergei? Sad that capitalism kicked your ass during the Cold War?" Dolph said, laughing. This spurred the Marines to chant louder.

Trying to ignore his enemies, Sergei concluded "Russia will rise again… and RAY is the key.". Though I don't claim to be an expert on geopolitics, economic theory, or the status of the Russian Federation, I'm fairly certain that an international incident involving Spetsnaz veterans killing unarmed crewmen and stealing a USMC robot would probably cause more problems for the Kremlin than they would solve.

That point is moot, however, because Ocelot finally decided to play his hand. "As I said before, I have no intention of selling Metal Gear, I'm here to return it… Yes, that's right, I'm returning it… to THE PATRIOTS!"

"The La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo!" Dolph exclaimed

Meanwhile, everyone not familiar with conspiracies of rampant AIs programmed by someone who helped create the internet that stood in opposition to an eyepatched jackass who used to go by the extremely weird codename "Naked Snake", had to wonder what the hell the Smurfs theme song had to do with a prominent New England sports franchise.

"Ocelot, have you sold us out?"

"Well, about that… y'know Sergei… remember when I said 'You can trust me, I'm not a liar'? Yeah… I was lying when I said that."

"Are you still in league with Solidus?"

"No hard feelings, Colonel. Mother Russia can rot, for all I care." At this, the Marines started chanting again.

"When, Ocelot! When did you turn?"

"I abandoned her during the Cold War. Or did I? Who knows, I may be lying again! Anyways, it doesn't really matter" Addressing everyone in the holds, Ocelot continued "Remember when I said that nobody had to die needlessly… yeah, that's also a lie. Sergei, you and your daughter will die here!" Ocelot exclaimed, twirling his mustache for extra evilness.

"Damn you!" Sergei growled, tossing Dolph aside as he turned his gun on his former comrade. Of course, he forgot one thing. Ocelot may be a half senile jackass who loves other peoples suffering, but there's a reason his name is 'Revolver Ocelot' rather than 'Idiotic Ocelot' or 'Fucked Up Sadistic Whackjob Ocelot'.

Casually tossing off his duster and pulling out a Single Action Army, Ocelot effortlessly gunned down Gurlukovich, who inadvertently shot Dolph in the back. Sergei exclaimed "Traitorous dog." as he fell, whilst Dolph hit the deck silently. A few Spetsnaz members attacked the traitor, but the old gunslinger took them out easily as well.

"Show's over folks!"

"Dude, that was awesome! You killed like… a lot of guys in under a minute! Encore!" A marine shouted.

"Well, I was planning on doing this anyways, but you just gave me the perfect segue." Ocelot said, holding out the detonator. "This ship is still in the Lower New York Harbor. You just may make it if you swim for your life!"

"Dude, it's freakin' Manhattan! We'll be lucky if we don't dissolve after five minutes in the river."

Tired of pointlessly exchanging banter with the dolts, Ocelot just shrugged and pressed the button.

**BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!**

As the ship began to flood, dozens of Marines shot at Ocelot, but to no avail, as he started climbing the walkways to RAY. Just as he neared the cockpit, our hero finally remembered that yeah, he was just standing around letting Ocelot make cryptic speeches and blow up the boat. Running to the platform, Snake raised his USP and yelled. "OCELOT!"

The gunslinger sneered derisively at the cloned badass, when his right arm began to twitch. Screaming in pain, he grabbed it and shuddered. Almost as quickly as it began, the spasm ended. Standing tall, Ocelot grinned, and yelled out in a familiar British voice "It's been a while, Brother…"

"Wait… are you fucking kidding me?"

"You know who I am, right? I mean, I think in between the terrorist plots, revelations about your past, multiple attempts to kill you, and murdering some of your best friends, I left an impression…"

Disturbed at this turn of events, Snake struggled to come up with a response. "Liquid? What? How in the? Seriously, why? Is this some sort of joke? C'mon Ocelot, is there like a hidden camera or something taping my reaction? Is this going on Youtube?"

"Senility, perhaps? Not so young anymore, eh Snake?" Ocelot/Liquid said, smirking evilly. "You're drowning in time… believe me, I know what that's like, brother."

"Okay… I'm trying to wrap my head around this. You are the resurrected spirit of my evil twin, Liquid Snake. You have possessed Revolver Ocelot through a transplant, that replaced the arm he had gotten cut off. So after the half-dozen times I put you through lethal trauma, you finally die of a heart attack virus, and now your fucking forearm has returned from the grave to seek vengeance. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

"No wonder Naomi passed you over for the FOXDIE program…" Oceliquid sneered, reminding Snake that not only was he facing his two worst enemies, combined into one convenient package, he still was a carrier for a heart attack virus given to him by a sexy, crazy doctor lady who hated him but also loved him or something. Yeah, things were getting complicated.

"Arrrgh… out… of my mind… Liquid!" Ocelot snarled, biting his arm. After another spasm, the evil British Russian Gunslinging Ghost Clone Badass stood tall again.

"The price of physical prodigy…" Liquid's voice rang out. "In a few more years, you'll be just another dead clone of the old man… but I… I live on… through this arm!" As was his custom, Liquid proceeded to make a variety of hilariously over-the-top handgestures to demonstrate.

"Dude, you're stapled to the elbow of a geriatric cowboy. I'm sure you'll kick first." Snake grinned.

* * *

SEVERAL YEARS LATER…

In this corner, the Malevolent Mauler from both Manchester and Moscow… Liiiiiiiquiiiid Oceloooooot! And his opponent, partially fried and coughing up a lung, the Elderly Asassin, Oooooold Snaaaaaaaake!

"Uh, dude, it's 'Solid Snake'. You left out an 'S' and an 'I'…"

As I was saying… OLD SNAKE! For the thousands in attendance, and the millions watching around the world… Lets get ready to watch an Old Man Syringefiiiiiiight!

* * *

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

A convenient explosion knocked Snake off his feet, allowing Liquid to clamber aboard Metal Gear RAY. The machine began to start up as Snake dragged himself out of the water…

"You don't have what it takes after all! You're going down… WITH THIS TANKER" Liquid roared... his internal monologue was basically _YayfinallyafterliketwentytriesIfinallybeathim!_ Liquid omitted the fact that this time, Snake didn't even have missiles to fight the giant robot, making this perhaps the most one-sided fight he had ever gotten involved in.

Snake proceeded to get punted across the room, slamming hard against a wall as RAY rampaged. The marines began ineffectively shooting at the mech, including one who simply used his service pistol. I can't say much about the man's intellect, but I sincerely believe that he had cajones forged of steel. Too bad the rest of him was squishy meat, as RAY effortlessly smashed him into paste.

"Otacon…" Snake said, grimacing as the sinking ship was being torn apart by a giant robot. "… this is bad…"

After absorbing some of the water flooding the hold, RAY turned to face a wall. A high pressured stream of water shot from the metal beast's mouth, slicing through the ship easily. Water continued to rush in.

Split in twain, the remnants of the discovery shuddered as RAY leapt out of the water and straddled the gap. Beneath the machine, our hero surfaced and gasped for air. Within the confines of Metal Gear, Ocelot glanced at the soldier as he talked to his mysterious employer. "No problems… excluding otherworldly possession by the last game's villain. Yes, I have photographic evidence of Snake on the scene, ready to be played on the morning news. Luckily, it appears that nobody in the most populated city in the Western Hemisphere is looking at the multi-ton behemoth that just blasted apart a tanker… Yes, it would seem that the Marines' plans are on indefinite hold… Yes, understood… mister president…"

As RAY dived off the wreckage, a massive wave washed over the tanker, Solid Snake disappearing beneath the water. Over the CODEC, Hal "Otacon" Emmerich could only say one thing…

"SNAAAAAAAAAKE!"

**THE END? NOPE...**

…**TO BE CONTINUED…**

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Sorry for the delay, but you know me. Last time I posted was over my winter break from college, and last semester was a bit more involved than I thought it'd be (I also worked Saturday mornings, meaning that I couldn't stay up on Fridays and work on the fic). I planned on getting started on this at the start of summer vacation, but I started working an extra job as well, so I actually had less time on my hands over the summer than I had during the semester. This semester is probably going to be no better than the last one, so well, I'm unsure if you'll be seeing chapter five before Christmas. Or after for that matter…

Also, for some reason, I couldn't just sit down and type this; I had a bunch of other fanfic ideas running through my head, some of which I've partially finished and which may see the light of day (possibly before I get another chapter of this up).

And Xbox live has pretty much destroyed any other productivity I might've had (I've got to get all those goddamn L4D achievements before the sequel comes out!). And Prototype and Batman: Arkham Asylum also distracted me. So to sum up; sorry that I've taking for-fucking-ever to get this far, and sorry in advance that it will probobly take even longer to get to the next part.


	5. Bait and Switch

Disclaimer: Metal Gear is not my work.

* * *

"Snake, do you remember the sinking of the tanker two years ago?" The voice of the Colonel blurted out, as cameras panned across the Verrazano Bridge.

"Of course." Our hero said, swimming through the waters of the Hudson River.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a dark and evil place, a land of suffering and hatred, a meaningless void of chaos and despair, they gathered, to discuss the events that were transpiring. By the way, I'm not referring to the secret meeting place of an evil conspiracy, I'm referring to the GameFAQs message boards.

Bonghitz 1287 proclaimed a problem he noted. "Dude, is it me, or does Snake sound different?"

Literati 42 began to over-analyze things, as usual "You see, I think it's a way of playing on expectations, the hype which has been…"

"I like toast! By the way, is it me or is that a chick in the water?" A misshapen youth, known only as DarkGidora interrupted.

"Stupid fuckin' noob…" Literati muttered under his breath.

* * *

"Terrorists blew a whole in a tanker full of crude, barely 20 miles off the shore of Manhattan, your classic nightmare scenario." The Colonel continued, neglecting to mention the MechaGodzilla Metal Gear, or the fact that considering the quality of the Hudson River, an oil spill that would render the entire Manhattan coastline barren of marine life would probably qualify as a mercy killing.

The Colonel continued "Anyhoo, the Government sprang into action, and by sprang into action, I mean Congress spent months arguing about whether a problem actually existed, then another few months debating over how to solve it, then over how much solving the problem would cost, then when they finally got off their asses and voted, some bureaucrat misread the memo and instead of cleaning the oil spill, started a brand new one. Then investigative reporters revealed kickbacks in the contracting to clean up the oil spill, and then New York State lawmakers and the City Counsel demanded that federalism dictate that they share jurisdiction over the first oil spill, but the second one was the federal…"

"Long story short?" Our exasperated hero growled.

"Fine, eventually they opened up the Big Shell, a giant cleanup facility. It's become a symbol of environmental protection…"

"…Dude, after the goddamn politicking, the thing's grand opening was last tuesday! It's not a symbol of anything yet."

"Anyways, the President has been kidnapped by terrorists. Are you a bad enough dude to get him back?"

"Which terrorist group? Cobra? Hydra? The Girl Scouts?"

"No, we haven't been given any messages with annoying shouting of the group's name, so it's not Cobra or Hydra. As for the Girl Scouts, they haven't bounced back from the airstrikes carried out in '08. The terrorists appear to be "Dead Cell", a former group of completely loyal covert US badasses, assisted by Russian mercenaries."

Snake continued to swim towards the Big Shell's oil fence, passing through a conveniently cut hole. "What are the demands?"

"Thirty billion dollars and a pony."

"Wait… due to budget restraints, Big Shell was made for $500. It'd be cheaper if we let them blow it up."

"True… but paperwork'll be a bitch if we let them do it."

"Ah, crap. So, what's the objective?"

"One, infiltrate the facility and rescue the President; and two, kill the fuck out of those terrorists. By the way, the Navy SEALs are also in the Big Shell. You cannot, I repeat, cannot let them know that you're there."

"Um, the SEALs and I are both supposed to save the President, so wouldn't it be…"

"Are you kidding? They're Navy SEALs, and FOXHOUND is Army. There's no way those frogmen can get the credit for this, or else I'll never hear the end of it. Actually, that's gonna be a new objective; your first priority is sabotaging the SEALs."

Snake proceeded to enter the Big Shell, climbing out of an unguarded pool in the bottom of Strut A. "Oh, by the way, Colonel, somebody cut open part of the oil fence. Really helpful too, because I left my wire cutters at home."

"That's not possible. By the way, Snake, we're changing your codename to Raiden, so please stop trying to sound like David Hayter after a few whiskeys."

"But I sound just like him…"

"Dude, your Solid Snake impression is worse than your way Christopher Walken impression"

"Dis **gai**_**, **_he jus' gives me no re**spect-ah**!"

"Okay, you impersonate anyone else, and I'm considering this mission failed. Got it, Raiden?"

Our hero sighed in acknowledgment… "Fine, I'm Raiden. What's next?"

"To walk, move one foot forward, and then the next, alternating between them. To punch, move your fist forward rapidly..."

"I've had VR training for that sort of stuff…"

"If you want to contact me, use the CODEC. Press select to…"

* * *

In the land of shadows, many voices arose in protest…  
"Dude, we fuckin' played the tanker chapter already. We know how to do that crap!"

Literati put forth another theory "I think it's a metaphor for the fact that the Raiden is a rookie, and therefore…"

"Cram it, nerd!" JerkAz 670 opined. "Raiden sucks. He's so gay! I bought this game to play as Snake, not Gay-den"

"I think it's a clever twist, Hideo Kojima playing with our expectations in way to prove a point." Literati suggested.

BongHitz chimed back in "I don't care how clever it is, I would've like a fuckin' warning..."

"Tangerines!"

"Not now, Gidora!"

* * *

Back with the Colonel and Raiden, our hero had a conundrum. "How am I supposed to get out of the basement?"

"Hmm, let's see. Industrial facility, need to move large objects quickly, ya think there might be an elevator?"

"Oh, yeah…"

"By the way, your suit is the top of the line. Its made out of a technology called "Smart skin", and has all sorts of high tech data collecting thingamajigs."

"Yeah… why is it so tight again?" Our hero asked, wondering why he was wearing quite possibly the most disturbingly tight sneaking suit in the series, and considering some of the other costumes in this series, it's saying a lot.

"I think it looks pretty..." With that, Raiden quickly went back to his mission.

Raiden continued forward, opening a hatch, spotting an unconscious guard. "Dude, there's an KO'd Russian guy..."

"Must be a Gurlukovich trooper. A Russian private army that was involved with the terrorists at Shadow Moses. They're highly trained, and very much equal opportunity employers; blind men, idiots, the boss's daughter, etc. Our intelligence suggests they recently introduced a new 'No hiring insidious cowboys' policy."

Continuing, Raiden heard the sounds of a scuffle. He arrived in the main chamber of Strut A's basement just in time to see yet another knocked out guard, and the cargo elevator raising in the back of the room. A dark haired, bandanna-wearing man rode the lift upwards. "Colonel, there's another intruder…"

"That's not a possibility."

"What? Do you think I stumbled upon Gurlukovich naptime? _I saw the dude_!"

"Oh… anyways, find the node…"

"Did you say 'nerd'?" And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how a meme is born.

"No, node."

"Noid?"

"Node."

"Need?"

"Just look for a goddamn computer! It'll make your radar work."

"Wait, so you're saying that I need to find a computer to activate my radar?"

"No, _computers_. You see, for every new place you find, you need to seek out the node, or else you won't have radar."

"Wait, Solid Snake's radar worked without seeking computers."

"It's called 'padding'. Now find the node…"

"Note? I thought you wanted me to find a computer…" At that, the Colonel hung up.

And so, our hero spent twelve minutes looking for a piece of paper with writing on it, before giving up and approaching a nearby computer. Placing his palm against the screen, our hero promptly got himself electrocuted.

"Oh, I forgot to mention this, but yeah, sometimes they do that…" The Colonel said over CODEC. "I bet the jolt shot your ass back, like ten feet. Man, it would've been hilarious to see in person. Anyhoo, I'd like you to meet your data analyst."

"Hi Jack" a lovely female appeared over the CODEC. Naomi had her revenge, Mei Ling had her quotes, Natasha had her ravings, I wonder what weirdness would be attached to Rose over the course of the game…

"Wait, Colonel, what's my girlfriend doing here?"

"I forgot to mention, but remember Cheryl? The FOXHOUND analyst that would've been on this mission? She had an accident. Apparently she walked into a knife. Seventy-one times."

"Colonel, I need my space! Generally, I like to keep my career as a black ops killed and my love life separate…"

"Too bad, the boys at the Pentagon thought it would be, and I quote 'Really fuckin' funny to see how this shakes out', so Rose is staying…"

"Jack, do you know what day tomorrow is?" The hero's girlfriend interrupted the Colonel with the question.

"Um, April 30th… why?"

"Oh, I don't know… maybe there's something special about it…"

"Walpurgis Night? The anniversary of Hitler's suicide? The birthday of the hooker that screwed that one New York State governor?"

"Well, according to Wikipedia, those are all true, but I'm thinking of something else. I won't stop badgering you about it until you can remember…"

"Oh yes, because not only do I have to save the president, stop the terrorists…"

"…and sabotage the SEALs…" The Colonel reminded our hero.

"Yes, and sabotage the SEALs. All that on the plate, and you're pestering me about a day?"

"Yep, call you soon!" Rose said, signing off.

As if on cue, the two unconscious soldiers woke up. Deftly hiding behind a crate, our hero waited for the elevator to come back down. Dodging the soldiers, Raiden walked into the elevator and ascended. So far, the mission had gone pretty good. He predicted that nothing strange or stupid would happen. Clearly, the man was an ass.


End file.
